Date: Wed, 8 Dec 2004 10:23:50 -0500
From: kicky1000@yahoo.com
Subject: Metrosexual
Metrosexual
by
Little Dan
I was tightly surrounded on the subway train by four young toughs, and I
had a cock up my heretofore heterosexual ass. How could this have
happened to me?
It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon and my wife, Florence, and I had
taken a taxi downtown to Lacey's Department Store. We needed a new
bedspread as the old one was getting pretty threadbare.
We went up to the bedding department on the seventh floor, and it was
appalling. They had nothing. Years ago Lacey's had been a wonderful
store. You could find anything there, but no more. Coarse artificial
fabrics, ugly colors, shoddy workmanship. Everything was badly
manufactured and very expensive. We wandered up and down the counters
looking and shaking our heads. Where would we ever find what we were
looking for? If this was what Lacey's was carrying, no one was even
making anything we would want to buy.
We decided to go home, but when we got out on the street, it was
absolutely mobbed. We had not been aware that today was the Latin Day
Parade, and many blocks were closed off for street fairs. On many of the
side streets, there were carts peddling delicacies from all the different
Latin countries.
We wandered through a couple of blocks, looking at the exotic
merchandise. Maybe we would find a bedspread, but no such luck. At one
stand we had some delicious Mexican tacos.
We walked back to the Avenue to find a cab, but forget it. The roadways
were bumper-to-bumper traffic. Even if we could have found a cab, it
would have taken us hours to get home, and cost us a bundle, with the
meter ticking away as the vehicle idled in heavy traffic.
"What are we going to do, Arthur?" Florence asked me.
"We'll have to take the metro," I answered her. The metro was, of
course, the subway. We had spent our honeymoon in Paris, and I was in
love with all things Parisian. And so with a slight Gallic
pretentiousness, I had been referring to the subway as the metro for
years. In Paris they, of course, called the subway the metro.
In a hundred years Florence would never have thought to take the subway.
She was a taxi person. No matter how much more a taxi cost, she hated
being underground, and never traveled that way. But now we had no
choice. If we wanted to get home, we would have to take the subway. Even
a bus was out of the question with this jam-up. We'd get home tomorrow
morning.
We found an entrance right next to Lacey's and went down the stairs. I
bought a card at the booth, and we went through the turnstiles. The
platform was so packed with people, you couldn't even move.
"There must be something wrong," I said. "It looks like there hasn't
been a train in a half hour."
"It's so crowded," Florence complained. "This is awful."
We tried to work our way down the platform. It was a tight squeeze.
"It's the Latin Day Parade," I said, noticing the people around us.
It was a very Caribbean crowd. I felt as if I could have been in Havana
or San Juan. Everybody was very lively and festive. We continued to
move down the platform and suddenly we came to a halt. There were four
men absolutely blocking the platform, from one side to the other, and
they didn't seem very willing to move.
"Excuse me," I said. "You're blocking the whole damned platform.
We'd like to get through."
"You hear this guy?" said one of them to the others. "He say we are
blocking the whole damned platform. He would like to get through." He
was imitating me. Making fun of me.
"You're very rude," I said, shoving him, trying to get by.
"Oh. We are rude," he announced to the others, shoving me back. "He
say we are very rude." He held his position firmly and refused to let
us pass. Suddenly I heard the sound of a train coming into the station.
Thank goodness. Now I would get away from these guys. I was starting to
feel a little threatened. I don't think Florence even realized what was
going on, that we were in a dangerous situation.
The sound grew tremendously loud, and you couldn't hear words anymore.
The train pulled into the station and the doors opened. I started to
guide Florence toward the open doors, but suddenly I felt as if I were
being swept off my feet. I couldn't control my own movements. The four
men had closed around me and we moved into the train as a group. I felt
their hands supporting me, as my feet flip-flopped around not gaining
much traction.
I was standing in the middle of the car, packed like a sardine. These
four guys around me, one on each side, and hundreds of people around
them. I didn't even have a pole to hold on to, but I didn't really
need one. There was no way I could fall. There was no way I could move
an inch. And where the hell was Florence? We had gotten separated, and
she was nowhere around. I was worried she hadn't gotten on the train, I
wanted to try to locate her, but I couldn't move a muscle. The train
pulled out of the station and the acceleration forced me back against the
man behind me. (One of the four.)
The guy who had been imitating me was standing directly in front of me,
facing me. I looked up at his face and he gave me a scary smile.
"How you doin'?" he asked me.
"Fine," I said nervously.
"Wha's yo' name?"
"Look here," I started to protest.
"Wha's yo' name?" he insisted.
"Arthur," I said. I should have lied. I should have said Edgar or
something, but I was nervous now, and not thinking too clearly.
"My name is Pablo," he said. "Pleased to meet you there, Arthur. This
is a real pleasure," his tongue dragged on the word pleasure.
"Nice to meet you," I answered, smiling tightly, not knowing what he
had on his mind. Pablo was around forty with a black moustache and
beard. He had a red bandanna wrapped around his head, and a black and
gray ponytail hung down from it. He was the oldest of the four. He wore
a blue cotton shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his chest, and I could see
his body was hairy also.
"This here is Juanito," he nodded toward the fellow on my left, who was
also tall, but thinner. He also had a black moustache and beard, but his
jet-black hair was cut short. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, and I
could see the muscles bulging in his strong arms. I didn't want any
trouble with him. I didn't want any trouble with any of these guys.
"Hello, Juanito," I said, smiling at him nervously.
"Hola, Papito." He grinned at me. Juanito was good-looking.
"And this here is Miguelito," said Pablo, nodding toward the guy to my
right. Miguelito was the youngest and the smallest of them. He was
short and skinny, but wiry looking. I didn't doubt that he was also
very fast and very strong.
"Miguelito," I nodded to my right.
"Hola, Papito," he said, and gave me a wicked toothy smile.
"That tall guy behind you is mi amigo, Angel," said Pablo. I twisted
my head around and studied Angel for a second. He was very lean looking
and very mean looking. His dark eyes suggested cruelty and danger. I
didn't doubt for a second that he could be a drug dealer or something.
Any of them could have been. My neck was starting to hurt, so I faced
front again and looked at Pablo.
This certainly was a strange situation. How had I gotten in this
predicament? In the middle of a subway car, surrounded by the four of
them. Was it a coincidence or had they engineered it?
Suddenly, I heard a voice calling from way down the car, "Arthur!
Arthur!" It was Florence. She was on the train, (thank goodness,) and
she had found me, but there was no way she could have gotten to me. I
smiled at her, and wanted to wave to her, but my arms were pinned to my
sides in the crush. She remained where she was imprisoned and smiled
back at me.
Then I felt something strange behind me. Down low. A pulling. Someone
was pulling on the seat of my pants. And then I felt something else. I
didn't know quite what it was. I could swear someone was cutting down
the seat of my pants with a knife. But that was crazy. But then I
thought I felt the touch of metal on my butt cheek. And was I feeling a
draft? A little cold air on my ass? But that was too crazy. What was
happening?
I looked up into Pablo's face and he seemed to be laughing. "My
friend, Angel, behind you. He's one crazy guy." I twisted my head
around in panic. It was true. Angel had slit my good slacks with a
sharp knife. Bastard! I had spent a lot of money for those slacks. I
wanted to scream, but I didn't dare. The man had a knife. I wanted to
run, but I couldn't budge an inch. I was in trouble
Suddenly I felt fingers feeding through the slit and pressing into the
crack between my buttcheeks. He had slit my jockey shorts as well. I
could feel his hot blunt fingers on my skin. I wanted to grab his arm and
pull it away from me, but I couldn't move my own arms. Why had he
destroyed my beautiful pants? Meanness. That was it.
His fingers started moving further into my crack. The tips were
caressing my butthole. My God. This was insane. One of the fingers
moved through the muscle and dug into my asshole. Good lord. He was
finger raping me. I wanted to scream, but this was just too
embarrassing. There I was in the middle of a crowded subway car with a
guy's finger in my asshole. He was digging it around, right and left,
up and down, right and left, up and down. In and out. In and out.
"You like that, Papito?" asked Pablo.
"No," I protested. "Make him stop it. Make him take it out."
"Oh, he gonna take it out real soon," Pablo assured me.
Finally the finger did come out, but then I felt some movement against my
butt. Something was going on. Was Angel pulling down his zipper?
Pulling down his zipper and twisting around. By this time I had a pretty
good idea what was happening. Angel had pulled down his zipper and was
digging around in his pants to pull out his hard cock. I could feel his
body move away from mine, only below the waist, and then I felt the warm
blunt head of a large penis feeding through the slit in my pants and my
underpants. I felt it going between my cheeks, guided by Angel's
fingers, and then the tip of it was pressed against my opening. Now his
hips moved forward, and he was forcing it in me, and it hurt like hell.
He just kept pushing and pushing, and my damned asshole was starting to
spread around his dick. "Ooowww. Ooowww," I cried silently. The
damned thing just kept moving in, until finally I felt his zipper
scratching my asscheeks. Angel was raping me. Angel was fucking me. This
couldn't be happening.
There were tears pouring down my cheeks, but Pablo, Juanito, and
Miguelito were smiling broadly in satisfaction. I couldn't see Angel's
face, but he must have been beaming as he started to hunch into my ass.
What a strange feeling. A big dick moving back and forth in my asshole.
The pain was going away a little.
The train sped down the tracks toward the next station, and the car
rocked back and forth. Under normal circumstances I would have lost my
footing and fallen, but I was held in place on all four sides, and when
my body was thrown backwards or forwards, I was either slamming my ass
down on Angel's steely rod, or lifting off of it for a second, giving
him pleasure either way.
Suddenly the lights went off in the car. That happens sometimes, for a
minute or two. In the dark I felt hot lips pressing down on my own, and
a large meaty tongue digging into my mouth. I was really surprised.
Pablo was giving me a deep juicy kiss. How disgusting! Disgusting, but
somehow sexy. Sexy and stimulating. My cock was hardening. I started
to suck down upon his tongue, and found my cock was getting stiffer and
stiffer. Now I could feel his long hard dick pressing against my front,
and I became conscious of the two erections, one on my right, and one on
my left, that were pressing into my sides, rubbing against me. Juanito
and Miguelito. I got so excited, I almost came in my shorts.
I closed my ass around Angel's dick, as tightly as I could and started
to jack his cock inside my body. I greedily sucked on Pablo's tongue,
and--the lights came back on and our faces separated in a flash, but I
could still feel Angel in my gut. He was starting to pound furiously.
Or as furiously as he could in such little space. And then I felt hot
liquid gushing up into my body. It was Angel's nectar. My hole tried
to suck out his juices. When he and I had both caught our breath, and I
thought it was all over, Pablo said to me "Excuse me, Papito. We don'
wanna be rude like you said, but we gotta move around a little. You just
stand where you is."
I stood firmly in place while the circle slowly pushed against the crowds
and moved around me. Now Juanito was behind me, and Angel was on my
right. I was facing little skinny Miguelito, and Pablo was on my left.
I felt more silent fumbling below waist level, and knew that Juanito was
pulling down his zipper and digging out his dick.
Sure enough, a few seconds later, I felt another hot throbbing knob dig
through my torn clothes, and head towards my rectum. My rectum was wet
now. Wet with Angel's hot cum, so Juanito's cock entered me much more
easily than Angel's had.
"You like a little better now?" asked Pablo from my left.
"Si," I admitted. Yes.
Pablo laughed a little and whispered to the others, "He like hot Spanish
cock."
The others started giggling. "Si, si. He like Spanish cock." I was
afraid someone else would hear them, but the train was so noisy, I guess
I didn't have anything to worry about. Tall, skinny Juanito started
seriously digging his cock into my hole. It wasn't just to humiliate me
anymore. He wanted to fuck. He wanted to get his rocks off in my
clutching channel. His dick was a little longer than Angel's but not
quite as wide, so it was a comfortable fuck and I was enjoying it. They
could see I was enjoying it. Miguelito, in front of me, drew down my
zipper and dug his hand inside. He closed it around my stiff member and
began to stroke. It was heavenly. Someone jacking my dick while someone
plowed my ass. Heavenly.
"Ay, si. Si," I groaned, lapsing into high school Spanish. A lady whom
I had noticed first standing behind Pablo, and who was now standing just
behind Miguelito looked at me strangely. She was a middle aged Latina.
She had heard me, and she clearly understood Spanish. I quickly looked
away from her and tried to concentrate on Juanito's fleshpole digging in
and out of my ass. My rectum started to actively participate in the
assault. It was petting and stroking the stiff hard instrument with real
affection. I wished it didn't ever have to end, but I could feel
Juanito's pelvis go into a series of determined short shoves, and more
hot liquid started jetting into my thirsty hole. Juanito pulled his cock
out and my hole closed in upon itself squirting some of the juice down my
leg and staining my shredded pants.
Halfway down toward the floor, I felt Juanito's big palm slapping my
buttcheeks. Then I felt him stuff himself back through his zipper, and I
think I even heard the zipper zipping up. Miguelito removed his soft
hand from my penis, which was protruding through my own zipper. I could
feel the metal edges scratching against my hard pole.
"We gonna do another ring around the rosy," whispered Pablo into my
left ear. "Now you just stand where you is." I nodded. Once again
the circle shifted around me.
Dangerous Angel who had slit my trousers and stolen my virginity was now
standing eye to eye with me. I somehow knew that one wrong move and I
would feel his knife in my gut. Little Miguelito was now on my left, and
tall Juanito was on my right, having just emptied his balljuice into my
asscanal. I looked at him. He looked contented.
Then I felt Pablo's bristly moustache and beard at the back of my neck
and along my left cheek. "Now I got the good position," he whispered
to me. "This is where I was waiting to get." I felt his large paws
caressing my asscheeks. He gave a fast little excited nip on my left
ear. I didn't think anyone had noticed, thank goodness.
Once again I felt activity below the waste, and heard the sound of a
zipper. And soon another big pole was poking into my private place. But
this one seemed very thick. Very very thick. How could that go in? I
wondered. I was really curious now, and I forced my arms into movement,
so that I could reach behind myself and feel Pablo's heavy rod. It
really was thick. "Ay, Papito, si," he whispered to me. "Jerk my big
dick. Feel what's gonna go into yo' hot hole. You gonna enjoy that,
ain't you?"
"Yes," I answered. What was I going to say?'No'?
"Put it in for me, honey," he whispered into my ear, practically
licking it. "Put yo' man's big cock into yo' hot pussy." With my
arm bent behind me, I tried to maneuver it into my body. I got it into
position and began pressing back on it. Slowly and with difficulty my
flesh was spreading apart around it, and it was heading home, nine inches
into me.
"Uff," I breathed.
"Oh, man. So nice. So nice," chanted Pablo into my ear, as he hunched
into my behind. And once I got used to the girth of it, it really was
`so nice'. I closed my eyes as the train roared forward, rocking me in
a steady comforting motion on and off that meaty warm plunger. On and
off. On and off. The rhythm of the tracks. I didn't have to think
about a thing. It was all just happening to me.
"Oh, Pablo," I sighed aloud. And the Latina lady who was now behind
Angel gave me a strange suspicious look. I didn't even care. She
couldn't see anything. And it was all wonderful.
"Arthur. Arthur," called Florence from down the car. I smiled at her
and nodded. I still couldn't wave. She was watching me as I was
getting my husbandly ass fucked, and in a million years she could never
imagine what was happening in that subway car. It was funny. I laughed
a little. Pablo thought I was laughing from pleasure and began to
hammer into me. Each time he slammed forward, I would slam back, but
above the waist you couldn't see the hint of a movement. We were just a
couple of guys crushed in a subway car on the way home from the Latin Day
Parade.
"Ay, Papito. Que culo," he said appreciatively. `What an ass'.
This time I think the woman maybe heard the word `culo'. She was
really giving me some piercing strange looks. I kept my eyes blank.
Angel meanwhile was playing with my dick, just as Miguelito had. I
looked at him, but his eyes avoided me. It was like we didn't even know
each other. Okay. If that was the way he wanted it. But he kept
stroking my penis, which felt very good.
Pablo was rotating his hips, trying to invent new directions to fuck me
from. One direction hit my prostate hard and I would have jumped a foot
in the air if only I could have moved a muscle. He heard me gasp, and
started to hammer into my gland.
"Arthur. Arthur," waved Florence, trying to edge her way through the
crowd to be at my side. Just what I needed right now. "Stay there,
Florence," I yelled above the crowd in a trembling voice. "It's too
crowded."
It was hard to speak with the feelings that were coursing through my
midsection. And I wanted to concentrate on those feelings, not have to
pretend that I wasn't having those feelings with Florence jabbering
pleasantries at my side, while Pablo's big cock was threading in and out
of my ass. "Uff," I said again. The woman behind Angel gave me a
dirty look. I think she was beginning to suspect something. Maybe
because my face was sweating a little. I just kept a frozen smile on my
face and looked beyond her.
The woman couldn't have missed hearing Pablo's hardly stifled throaty
"GGGRAAAHH," as his Spanish seed fertilized my assgarden. There was
so much of it, that it began to ooze out around his planted cock, and run
down my pants legs. My ass squeezed down on the softening member,
hugging it, caressing it, loving it. "Que culo," he repeated.
"Gracias," I murmered. The woman was now sneering at me. I took my
eyes off her and looked up into Angel's baby browns. His thin cruel
lips were spread in an amused smirk. He was looking into Pablo's eyes
and communicating a shared experience. My ass.
I felt Pablo stuffing his cock back in his pants and zipping up, way down
below `see' level. Then we played circle again. I stood frozen, while
the quartet spiraled into fourth position.
I was suddenly looking up into the handsome chiseled face of tall, skinny
Juanito.
I liked Juanito. He was my type. If there had been room to kneel on the
floor, I would have sucked him off. I mean, I've never sucked anybody
off, but I was certainly considering that I wouldn't be adverse to
sucking Juanito off. To take his big prick in my mouth, and lovingly run
my tongue all around it, and then to chomp down, and start suctioning it
in, over my tongue, letting it stray back into my virgin throat. Stop.
Stop. "Thoughts like this will drive you mad," I thought.
"Ay, Papito," whispered Pablo into my right ear, giving it a quick
bite. The woman saw. Angel, who, I think, was a little mad began
licking my neck right in front of everybody. I tried not to react. I
was pretending as if nothing were happening.
Now little Miguelito was behind my buttcheeks, and I felt the familiar
fumbling, and heard the zipper go down. He worked his slender ass away
from me (how come so far away?) to get his prick in line. It started
coming through the slit, and I felt his finger pushing into my sloppy
hole. He had one finger extended, searching for the opening, and then
the dick followed. It followed, and it followed, and it followed. It
was endless. Was it going up to my navel? It must have been over a foot
long. How could such a skinny little guy, have such a long dick? It was
still going in. My god. It was pressing against my asswalls, but the
knob was hitting very high. It was hurting. And then I felt his zipper
scratching my cleft. He was ball deep. Ayayay,
Thank goodness it was all the way in now. He started to fuck into me,
and he was hitting deeper areas than any of the others had hit. It hurt
a little. But it was good a little too.
I just couldn't remain passive anymore. I took a deep breath and tried
to move my arms, which up until now had been pinned to my sides, though I
had gotten one of them behind my back for a second to feel Pablo's
cock. Now I wanted my hands in front. I twisted and struggled and
finally I did get my hands in front of me. I had two choices. I could
either play with my own dick, which was hanging there unattended at the
moment, or I could be very daring, and try to play with Juanito's dick.
I didn't think he'd really mind. And he was so handsome. If I had
been gay, Juanito would have been my kind of guy.
I made the decision, and furtively began to lower Juanito's zipper,
while little Miguelito hammered away behind me with his anaconda cock.
When Juanito realized what I was doing, a big smile swept across his
face. I knew he would like it. I knew it.
"Si, Papito," he said seductively.
I dug into his underwear and planted my palm around his heavy meat, which
now started to swell and straighten. I worked it through his zipper, and
began jerking him gently. What a nice cock. I really would have liked
to get my mouth around that thing. (Even though I'm not gay.) I was
wondering if after Miguelito shot his load, I could get them to make a
double shift so I could get Juanito's sweet pipe inside my asslips one
more time.
Pablo was looking down. I think he could see what I was doing. He
whispered something to Angel who was facing him, and they both started
fidgeting, making the tight little area tighter still. They were
unzipping. Both of them. They were starting to jerk themselves (do a
paja) on each side of me, while I jerked beautiful Juanito, and
energetic, athletic, little Miguelito humped and humped my buttocks, as
his python penis built a new nest inside my intestines.
The one thing that was worrying me, is that we had made several stops and
the train was starting to empty out. One more stop and it would look
funny that we were all five pressed together in the center of the car.
And that woman was still giving me nasty looks. She never took her eyes
off my face. It was as if she knew what I was doing in every part of my
body.
I was also starting to worry that Florence was getting closer. This
intimate little scene couldn't go on too much longer. I heard heavy
breathing all around me. I felt Juanito's hand pulling my fist off his
dick and replacing it with his own. Now there were three pajas going on,
as Miguelito continued to enjoy my culo. "Mmmmm. Mmmm. Mmmmmm."
Everybody was making obscene noises, and I felt hot liquid warmth shoot
out around my left hand which was near Juanito's prick. He had cum on
me. He was done. He gave a tired happy smile. Then left and right,
Pablo and Angel shot off on me. Or shot off on my destroyed trousers. I
must look a sight, with gobs of cum all over my clothes. Pablo licked my
ear again. The woman frowned and shook her head. Florence was getting
closer. It was a race.
I tightened my assflesh around Miguelito. I needed him to shoot fast
now. As much as I could, I moved my ass forward and backward to
encourage him. I heard shuddering gasps, and I felt the snake first
stretching inside me and then inseminating me. Hot gush. Gush. Gush.
Gush. Gush. "Aaaarrrrggghhh," yelled Miguelito. I think everyone in
the car turned at that point to see what was happening. I kept my face
blank and stared off into the horizon. Gush. Gush. Gush. It was still
hosing into me. I frantically grabbed my own dick and did a paja, and in
a second I was gushing, myself. My cum was running down my pants.
"Arthur," said Florence. She was standing fairly close to me now.
Just behind Juanito. Next to the disapproving Spanish lady.
"Hi, Florence," I said.
"What a crowded train."
"Yes," I answered.
"We have to get off next stop," she reminded me.
"I know, dear."
I felt Miguelito withdrawing that long fleshtube from my ass, and tried
not to react. Below waist level, everyone was zipping up. I moved my
hands to my own zipper and raised it, after stuffing myself back
inside. But my ass was still going to be hanging out. That was a
problem.
The train was pulling into our station. Florence and I started moving
toward the door. It wasn't so hard to move now. Juanito politely moved
to the side to let me pass. We didn't look at each other. I wanted to
grab him and kiss him, shove my mouth over his lips, lick his sweet
tongue, get down on my knees, suck his delectable dick, be his manwhore,
be his slave. But we didn't look at each other.
"Maricon," the Spanish woman uttered as I passed her.
"What did she say?" asked Florence.
"Nothing," I said. "I didn't hear anything." I wasn't going to
tell my wife that the woman had called her husband a fairy.
We were positioned in front of the door as the train rocked into the
station. I never looked back. If only I could have taken their phone
numbers. Something. But this would never happen again. So sad. A
one-time thing.
The train ground to a halt in the station and I rapidly stepped out,
positioning myself in front of Florence, who was used to walking beside
me.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Just walk behind me. Walk right behind me."
"Why?" She had to have a reason for everything.
"Never mind," I ordered. "Just walk behind me. Walk one step behind
me." With any luck I would get home with no one seeing my naked oozing
ass peeking out through the long jagged slit in my cum-covered,
beautiful, pricey, navy blue Ralph Lauren slacks.